


bind and bound

by dottie_wan_kenobi



Series: Harry Potter (series) Fics [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, POV James Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: One autumn night after graduating, James and Sirius meet up for a date at the Three Broomsticks.
Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter
Series: Harry Potter (series) Fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799116
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	bind and bound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for CheekyTorah-Lex's "Lex and His Favs Challenge" and originally posted on HPFT.
> 
> The title comes from the quote, "Humans prefer the kind of love in which they bind and are bound by each other. Once we learn to love in ways that set each other free, our spiritual journey begins.” by Guru Bhaneshwaranand.

When school had ended months ago, Sirius had had the genius idea of living separately. He’d said that it was only smart—and only healthy, which meant that he must’ve talked to Remus or Lily or someone who’d give that kind of advice—that they take some time apart. Not in their relationship, which James was extremely relieved to hear, but just…not living together for a little while. “We have to know what life is like on our own,” he’d said, clasping James’s hand between his own. “I still want to see you, don’t get me wrong. I just think….”

And James, though he didn’t particularly want to go live somewhere that didn’t have Sirius a room or a bed or a pillow away, had said, “Alright. We’ll try it out and reconvene. How long?”

“However long it takes,” Sirius shrugged, and couldn’t explain what he meant when James pressed.

That was months ago. Ever since, with autumn slowly settling in around them, they’ve been meeting up at various places for dates or days together, sometimes going back to their flats and enjoying time with each other. Despite James’s initial reluctance, the appeal is more obvious now—every time they meet up, he finds his feelings have only grown through the separation, each touch lingering on his skin for hours after. He misses Sirius when they’re apart, thinking about him throughout the days and wondering what he’s up to, and marveling at the novelty of not knowing every detail. 

That novelty hits him again as he strolls through Hogsmeade, trying to be casual and not run all the way to the Three Broomsticks, where they’re meeting up tonight. It’s a bit out of the way for them both—Sirius is training as a medi-wizard, and James as an auror—but it’s a familiar space, where they used to have most of their dates while they still attended Hogwarts. Back then, dates were as easy to arrange as pranks, just a “Are you busy?” and pushing aside of homework for more exciting adventures.

Ever since they left, though, it’s been more difficult, fitting time together in between long shifts and bolstering, necessary naps. James is coming off a never-ending day of training, and normally he wouldn’t be out and about, instead falling into bed and sleeping without bothering to eat first.

But Sirius is waiting for him at the Broomsticks. Sleep is far from the forefront of his mind right now.

The rest of the journey doesn’t take very long, thank Merlin, and when he opens the door, he sighs happily at how warm it is inside. There aren’t too many patrons, just locals and a few children who are too young for school just yet. James smiles at them as he walks past, easily pinpointing Sirius sitting in their usual booth.

He looks—exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. His cheeks and ears are a faint red, and he’s sitting on the edge of the seat, looking off into space like he always does when deep in thought. Still wearing his coat and old Gryffindor scarf, he looks a bit out of place compared to everyone else who’s shed their outer layers. All in all, he looks a bit silly, but he’s Sirius, beautiful and as intimately familiar to James as anything or anyone possibly could be.

James heads straight for him, smiling brightly when Sirius finally tunes in and notices him, his eyes brightening.

Sirius stands to greet him, and they embrace, James pecking Sirius’s mouth briefly. “Hi,” they say at the same time, and laugh at how they’re still so in-tune.

“Come on, let’s get these off,” James suggests before Sirius can sit back down. He tugs off his own robes, poking at Sirius’s more Muggle-like jacket. “You’ll overheat.”

“I will not,” Sirius complains, but strips it off and lays it carefully in the booth next to him. While James sits, he stays standing, and taps the table to catch his attention. “I waited to order until you got in. What would you like?”

“Butterbeer.”

“And to eat?”

“Butterbeer.”

Sirius laughs and shrugs. “Well, alright.”

James watches him go, rolling out his shoulders and relaxing back into the seat. The air smells delicious, like magic and seasoning and pumpkins. So different from London, where he’s been living and where petrol and other such scents overpower everything, and from the Auror office he works at, which is clean and crisp and metallic. While he waits, he breathes it all in, feeling comfortable and safe and warm.

When Sirius comes back, he sets a Butterbeer down each, followed by a single plate of chips for them to share. Sitting down, he presses his ankle to James’s and takes a chip for himself. “How’ve you been?”

They talk for a while, detailing the horrors and complaints of their jobs, discussing how their friends are, and in Sirius’s case, confiding about how difficult it’s been to acclimatize to the Muggle world.

“Is it everything?” James asks in between bites. “Or something specific? I haven’t got a hold of everything yet, but I can help you with a lot of it, you know. And if not me, we can ask Lils or Moony.”

Sirius groans, his eyes falling shut as his head tips back against the seat. “First of all, yes, it’s _everything_. I think I have a handle on the money but then I don’t know when to give it over? And Peter said I should check and make sure I’m given the correct amount of change, but when I do that, people get annoyed with me ‘cause I take too long. Then there’s this guy that lives above me who is up at all hours of the night _vacuuming_ , I mean, who does that? What could he be vacuuming at four in the bloody morning? And then I decide I just want to go for a walk, and I can see everyone staring at me like I’m walking wrong! Do wizards walk differently from Muggles? Because I think I do.”

“I’m pretty sure we don’t,” James says.

“Well, then I am the exception,” Sirius announces with a typical amount of gravitas coming from him. “It’s not normal staring, I can tell.”

“Normal staring?”

Sirius waves a hand dismissively. “The ‘oh he’s so gorgeous I want to have his babies’ staring.”

James bursts out laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Sirius whines, his amused grin giving him away. “And second of all, James Fleamont, I thought I said I didn’t want to go running to you for help with literally everything.”

He rolls his eyes both at the dramatics, and at how Sirius is still being so stubborn. “Oh, right, that.”

“Yes, that.”

“You could just come live with me. Then I could handle the money and you wouldn’t have to worry about it. Plus, no annoying vacuum guy at my flat.”

Sirius bites his lip and glances off to the side, apparently—and thankfully, James thinks—deciding to give it more thought this time around instead of flat-out refusing him. “What about the staring?” He asks after a moment.

“Can’t help with that. But if you ever want me to look at you with the _normal stare_ ….”

“You already do,” Sirius says, a challenge lit up in his eyes. But it fades after a moment, and his smile slips into something more pensive. “Do you really want me to come live with you? I thought you liked your place.”

James picks at the label on his drink, not sure he wants to look at Sirius for this part. “I do! I do, I like it a lot. But sometimes it just feels…empty, ya know? And since we usually end up going back to your place, it doesn’t always feel like it’s mine. I guess I thought, if you were there, it’d feel more like—” He shakes his head, feeling a little too vulnerable for being in public.

“Like?” Sirius prods after a moment.

No one can hear them, he reminds himself. Just Sirius. “Like home.”

Sirius smiles, not one of his show-stopping, just-successfully-pranked-someone beams, but one that’s softer, sweeter. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He shifts in his seat. “The dorms were home, and then you came and stayed with us, and that all felt…really good. And I do like my place. But I’d like it better if you were there with me.”

Sirius reaches out across the table, and without hesitation, James mimics him. Sirius presses James’s hand flat to the table, then lays his over top, rubbing his thumb against James’s knuckles. “I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He huffs a laugh, his chest warm with affection. “So is that a yes?”

“I—I want it to be. Do you think we’re ready? Do you think we should?”

“Ready? I think I’ll always be ready to have you back with me. Do you feel ready?”

Sirius bites his lip. “I think so too. I just—maybe you’ve gotten used to living alone.”

James moves his hand, flipping it so now they’re palm to palm. He holds onto Sirius as he says, “You’re my favorite person. You know that, right? If we’re both ready to live together again, then yes, I think we should. And I think we should start right now.”

“Right now?” Sirius laughs. “Someone’s impatient.”

“I just want you back,” James says, and it’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out a little more, well, serious. 

“Well, why don’t I come stay the night at yours, hmm? It can be a—what do the Muggles call it—a trial run?”

“I don’t think we need one,” James grins, “But I’m not going to say no. Come on, you wanna go now?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

They gather their outerwear, stopping long enough to buy some pumpkin ale for the trip home—to the place which, hopefully soon, can be _theirs_ again. Then they’re walking back out into the night; it’s cold, but it smells like autumn—leaves and pumpkins and the chill in the air. 

James takes Sirius’s hand in his own, not wanting to let go again, and revels in his pink cheeks and bright smile.


End file.
